


One Twisted Love Story

by Jordantn18



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Attempted Murder, Detectives, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Murder, Reporter, Sad Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-23
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-01-26 06:35:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1678337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jordantn18/pseuds/Jordantn18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is a serial killer and Harry is the unlucky journalist who is just a little too obsessed with finding out who he is. One day he just happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and it creates one twisted love story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Any triggers missed please let me know and i'll fix it, and talk to me if needed! Tell me what you think, next update soon.

L

Killing someone is hard and no one knows that like Louis Tomlinson does or at least he used to. Now, oh now he doesn’t even bat an eye at the blood spatter, at his falling victims, or even at how twisted his mind has become. Sometimes he scares himself but mostly he’s proud of being able to look someone in the eye as they die. Which makes this poor sap standing in front of him no different than anyone else.

He's a muscular guy, kind of tall with short hair and some kind of god awful beard, ‘if it wasn’t for that he wouldn’t be so bad looking’, Louis thinks as he points the gun toward his target. The building is dark except for one single light that hangs in the middle, this building is really nothing special, he just likes the dramatics of it. It smells of oil and transmission fluid and Louis swears he can smell the fear of the bloke in front of him. Somewhere in the distance a car alarm is going off, however that’s really not uncommon for this area of London. “What’s your name buddy?” Louis calls to the man in front of him.

“L-l-l-Liam Payne,” he stutters.

“Hmm, nice simple name, I like that.” Louis sneers to himself and he sees Liam visibly relax just a little bit. Louis can’t help but laugh at him, “Don’t think that means you’re safe, I’m still going to kill you, I’ll just make it nice and quick.” And with that it’s over as soon as it began the gun in Louis’ hand cracks and then Liam is on the floor, dead before he even fell. The shot went right through the left eye, Louis’ signature shot. He walks over to the bloke and almost feels bad, almost.

‘This one had nice eyes, but it just wasn’t his lucky day,’ Louis thinks. Blood slowly leaks from the back of the blokes head and down his face from the small, almost minuscule hole in his eye. Liam, that’s just another name to add to his list. “This is almost getting to be too easy, it’s pathetic.” But even if he wanted to Louis couldn’t stop, that ship sailed a long time ago. Sometimes he finds himself cursing that damnable petty thief who had no understanding of shoot to kill. But Louis doesn’t want to think about that right now, he really just wants to go to bed. When he first started killing he couldn’t sleep for days after the fact, the blood lust kept him awake. Now all he wants to do is sleep after it’s all over, that’s not to say he doesn’t still enjoy what he does, because he does. Louis clearly knows there is something wrong with him, but he couldn’t find out even if he wanted to, that would make him too easy to catch.

Louis leaves the building, making sure not a finger print is left anywhere and making sure the door is left unlock so one of his goons can move the body to a less obvious location, he’s too good to be caught by any cop. Some killers would want to get rid of the body of their latest kill as soon as possible but not him; he wants them to know that he still in the game.

At the beginning Louis never thought of it as a game, but now all he can see it as is a giant game of cat and mouse that he fully intends to win. That’s what occupies his mind most of the time now, how to stay one step ahead of the police, and it’s no different tonight. He walks along by himself, passing the shady buildings and neighborhoods and slowly passing into nicer territory. No one bothers him, no one ever does, he prefers it that way, it makes his life style exponentially easier. Not much later he arrives at his building. He hurries to the elevator whistling Don’t Worry be Happy and he waits for it to come down. Finally he hears the familiar ding and steps in. He presses the button for the fifth floor, and walks over to flat number 17, absolutely content with himself for getting an apartment with his lucky number attached to it. This poor Liam bloke made his sixtieth kill that means the next will be the absolute best; however that also means that it has to be so much better than the rest, Louis decided he’s going to take his time with this one. ‘Lucky number seventeen,’ he thinks, ‘they’ll get to live a little longer than the rest.’

H

Harry sits at his small desk twirling his thumbs, completely bored out of his mind; it’s been a slow news week causing him to be almost useless at work. He checks his phone again, wondering why Liam hasn’t texted him back yet. He didn’t think their blind date went that badly, after all Harry was able to get his number and a bit of a snog by the end of the night. ‘I’ll have to ask Niall if he’s heard from him at all.’ His eyes keeping drooping and he curses himself for staying up late watching The Wizard of Oz on the telly, he knew he should’ve went to bed, but you can’t miss a classic.

Eventually, he’s not quite sure when, but eventually he dozes off. A loud thud on his desk wakes him up and he falls out of his chair. When Harry looks up he sees Niall standing there killing himself laughing. “What the fuck Niall? You scared me half to death!” Harry knows he’s being overdramatic but it’s just so much more fun that way. He chuckles to himself as he gets up, it was pretty funny.

“It’s time to wake up sleeping beauty, this was just dropped off for you, apparently some poor bloke was shot, and no name was given yet.” Niall says as he smirks at Harry, he knows Harry lives for this stuff.  
Immediately Harry is fully alert and ready to work, he hopes this is the killer he’s been tracking for the past couple of months; the guy is just so fascinating.

“Is it him?” Harry asks Niall maybe just a tad too eagerly.

“No idea mate, why don’t cha just look, and I don’t know, maybe do your job?” Niall’s laughing at him again.

“Shove off would you, I fall asleep one time and I’ll never hear the end of it will I?”

“Not on your life,” Niall says as he starts to walk away, wanting to let Harry actually get to work. “Also, have you heard from Liam? We aven’t spoken since your date.”

“No I haven’t actually, I was hoping you knew something, it’s probably nothing but maybe you should call him.” Harry tries not to look like he’s too worried, but he can’t help it, it’s who he is.

“Ya maybe I will.” Niall shrugs then walks away.

“I hope he’s okay.” Harry mutters to himself, and then decides to not think about it and read the file Niall so rudely dropped off. As he reads it he gets more and more excited, with each passing word it sounds more and more like the serial killer he’s been following and reporting on, the killer that’s completely making his career. Finally he gets to the part of the police report that gives him the evidence he needs. The poor bastard was shot though the left eye, his killers exact signature. Harry is just beaming now, he knows he should feel bad about the poor guy but he just can’t right now, The London Eye Killer is at it again and that means his life is about to get just that much better. He starts thinking to himself about a new desk and maybe he will finally get an office and a new chair, maybe a computer that’s from a decent decade.

As Harry’s mind wanders he starts to forget that he actually has to do his job, until Niall texts him to stop fantasizing about his killer and actually write about him. Harry looks across the office and sees Niall just killing himself laughing.

Shut up you damn bastard- He texts Niall.

But he knows Niall’s right and quickly starts typing up his article for the paper tomorrow, soon he forgets everyone around him and enters a world that all his own, not leaving it until he’s done doing what he loves, writing. By the time he gets out of his writing daze most people have left the office. He checks the clock and it reads 19:55. ‘Fucking hell,’ he thinks to himself, he only has 5 minutes to get his article in. He quickly writes out an email to his editor and sends the file with it, just in time.

He turns off his computer feeling accomplished and decides he will meet Niall at the pub for a few drinks before he goes home. Not once does he think about Liam all night.

Z

Zayn slams his hands down on his desk with a loud thud causing everyone left in the station to jump, they all look but no one dares ask anymore, they all know the answer. He’s not usually an angry person but this guy just keeps getting away from him. Zayn stares down at the sixteenth police report he’s had to write about this killer and it’s starting to get to him, no one ever evades him for this long, he usually has the criminal by the third kill at most. The worst part is that there is nothing traceable, nothing even remotely similar about these kills except for the kill shot; this guy is good, too good to be any sort of common criminal.

“What am I missing, why can’t we catch him?!” Zayn yells out in frustration but no one answers him, they are all used to him being the quiet calm one, they have no idea what to do when he’s like this.

The room is quite but for a few strikes across a keyboard across from him but he pays no attention to it, it’s just his partner being a prat. Zayn looks down at the newspaper beside him, which admittedly was a bad idea because it just manages to make him angrier. In bold print on the front page reads ‘The London Eye Killer at it Again’ a story by that ass of a journalist Harry Styles, the prick whose making his career out of innocent people being slaughtered. Before the case is said and done with, Zayn is determined to find out who in the station leaked the story to the press in the first place, and when he does he will do anything to get rid of them.

Though he already knows what the autopsy will say he decides to go over to the morgue and examine the body, just for protocols sake. It’s not far from the station, in reality he could just walk but decides to take his cruiser instead just so people will get out of his way a little quicker.

When he gets there doctor McCavey is just finishing up with another autopsy, something easy and medical, and nothing either Zayn or any of the other officers have to worry about. “Hi doc, would you mind if I took a look at the newest one?” Zayn hates doing this part of the job; he can’t stand the gore of it.

“Of course, I’ll go get the report,” the doctor says, clearly noticing that Zayn is uncomfortable. “Calm down Zayn, you’ve been doing this for years, eventually you will have to get used to it eh?”

“I know, it’s just so awful to see, these honest and good people who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, it just isn’t fair.” Doctor McCavey shrugs then leads Zayn to the autopsy lab, and there he is, the poor bloke with bad timing and even worse luck, a small hole right through his left eye, just enough to completely destroy the iris, the colour dead and faded but acknowledge by the other eye, still wide with fear. Zayn shutters, no matter how many victims this guy has he will never get used to seeing them with only one eye intact, there’s just something not natural about it to him.

Doctor McCavey slowly explains the cause of death, how long it took him to die and reassures Zayn, as he always does, that there was little to no pain involved in the death. It’s a hollow sentiment but he appreciates it just the same, even though almost everything the doctor said went right through his head.

Zayn can’t stop looking at the one eye left that just seems to be staring at him, begging him to catch the killer. ‘Great,” Zayn thinks, ‘another face to add to my nightmare.

That night, like all the other nights Zayn has had in the past five months, is filled with restless sleep and terrifying one eyed faces asking him to save them. He tries to tell them that he can’t but they don’t listen, the just keep on insisting that if he were better at his job they wouldn’t have had to of died. Zayn wakes up with a jump, sits up and stares into the dark. He won’t be getting back to sleep tonight, so instead he turns on the light and the telly and heads to his small quiet kitchen to make a cup of tea. He has to get some sleep or soon he will end up like the poor people on doctor McCavey’s table.


	2. Number Seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis finds what he's looking for in a very unexpected way, Harry suddenly can barely remember his own name, never mind the guy who won't call him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally I've updated and yes i am back, sorry about the long wait, promise it wont be nearly as long this time round. Follow me on [Tumblr](http://snapmybacknialll.tumblr.com/) for updates on progress.

2

 

L

Louis sits on the small stone wall outside the London eye. The early morning sun shines down on him as he prepares to select his lucky number seventeen.  Slowly he starts to remember all the time he has spent here, patiently waiting for the next person to catch is eye, the first time he didn't even mean to end up here, he just wanted to get away from what he had done and next thing he knew the fantasies started. Before long the fantasies turned into actions and within a month he had his first kill down as the London Eye Killer. Originally he couldn't stand the name, it made him sound cheap and touristy just like the people he couldn't stand, but slowly as his shot became more and more evolved he learned to love and embrace the name the media had attached to him, not like they were going to change it anytime soon.

Louis slowly starts to smile, he shouldn't be, really he shouldn't, and he knows it’s not natural but to him it feels so right.  He’s shown his remorse every time, the pain from the last time still resonating on him, and to him that is good enough, that is his repent, forever being marked that way he will never forget his actions or their names.  

 

It surprises him when even after an hour not one person has seemed good enough to be number seventeen, there were a couple of close calls but they all looked too easy, too fragile, or just much too boring. Today it didn't look like these people would beg for their lives or try to bargain with him in any manner possible, today they all just looked so willing to die. As for tourists they were boring in their own right, they never stay long enough for Louis to get any satisfaction out of killing them, he never gets enough time with the tourists.  Louis starts to think about giving up for today and trying again, but something tells him he has to stay, the universe has always been ironically good to him every time he’s come to pick the next victim, every time he would pick by the end of the day, if not by the end of the hour.

Slowly Louis’ mind drifts to his last victim, Liam Payne. It took him about five minutes of sitting down to pick Liam. It started when he saw him, really a simple bloke, short hair, trying to get on the beard trend, muscular as all hell, and that’s what truly caught Louis’ eye. He knew he couldn't overpower this one so instead he had to outwit him. Those were his favorite kind. The second thing that truly caught his attention was Liam’s vibrant smile as he looked down at his phone and answered with a smile in his voice that equally matched the one on his face. He was telling someone on his phone about the fantastic date he had the night before. Louis didn't really catch a name but it didn't matter much. From there Louis knew he had to have this one.

 

A loud bang snaps Louis out of his trance. On the ground in front of him lays the lankiest curly haired bloke he’s ever seen.

 

H

Harry decided to walk by the London eye on his way to work, it helped calm him down and focus on his article, and he needs the killer to strike again. His well of information is dying quick and no one else in London really seems to be doing anything newsworthy. Today the story about the unknown bloke who was killed by his killer was printed, right on the front page. Harry wishes he had been able to get a quote from the investigating officer, but detective Malik is a hard nut to crack especially with journalists.

Harry sees the London Eye out of the corner of his eye and can’t believe he almost walked by it, it’s basically fueling his career. He stops and looks at the gigantic metal structure, despite being extremely safe and him knowing it would never fall on him it still makes him uneasy to stand so close.

Harry decides to move on and pulls out his phone, still no messages from Liam. ‘I wonder if I did something wrong’ he thinks. He decides to call Niall and see if he’s heard anything from Liam. Just as the phone starts’ ringing his lace comes undone and he steps on it causing him to fall and send his mug of tea flying forward.

“God fucking damnit!” Harry curses as he goes down.  Harry hears laughing above him and sees a pair of Toms hanging near the sidewalk. Whoever the bastard on the wall laughing at him is needs to get a better shoe sense, god. Harry gets up and wipes himself off. He fully intends to just walk away with a special little finger to the bloke but when he looks at his face he’s dumbfounded. 

Harry sees beautiful bright blue eyes and fantastic contrasting straight brown hair, fringed perfectly. He knows he has to say something now.

“Hi, I’m Harry. Beautiful day isn't it?” Harry smiles wide and extended his hand. The beautiful stranger looks at him just as dumbstruck but Harry already knows that this bloke will make him forget all about Liam not calling him back.

 

L

Louis wants to run, he want to hid, truly he wants to do anything but sit here and look at the beautiful bloke in front of him. No one ever approaches him; he just assumed they were terrified, even before he became a killer. He honestly has absolutely no clue what to do but stare at the hand extended in front of him.

“Hello?” The green eyed beauty extends his hand farther, clearly not ready to give up in any sense.

Louis grabs the lads hand and squeezes with all he can muster, which admittedly isn’t much at this moment. “Hi, I’m Louis, and who might you be?” Louis’ tone is almost mocking, almost, he’s still not sure he wants this one to walk away from him.

“I’m Harold… I, I mean Harry” he blushes and grips Louis’ hand harder. They hold each other’s gaze for what seems like forever but is more likely seconds before Louis lets go.

“Are you alright? You took quite the tumble there.” Louis looks over at the busted mug and laughs. He watches as Harry turns bright red and checks himself over as if remembering that he actually did fall down pretty hard.

“Ya, I seem to be okay, just a little sore,” he smiles proudly displaying the large dimples in his cheeks.  Louis watches him just stand there beaming and seems to lose his focus. “If you are going to keep staring at me like that you might as well take me to dinner.”

  ‘Cheeky bastard,’ Louis smirks, “alright, give me your number and I’ll make sure you see me again.” Louis watches as Harry jumps at the invitation and quickly fetches a pen and paper.

Harry looks at his watch as Louis puts the paper in his pocket, “shit I’m actually running really late, I’ll see you around!” He winks and walks away with a smirk on his face.

Louis knew if he waited he would get the absolute best, “hello number seventeen, you’re quite pretty, I might actually be sorry about how this has to end.” His smile turns sinister and he can’t quite contain his excitement at his new victim. ‘Young and pretty, what a shame he’s going to be dead so soon.’

 

H

“Bang!” Niall shouts as he launches an elastic band at Harry hitting him just left of his eye.

“God damn Niall what are you doing!” Harry shouts but is still clearly beaming.

“I’m trying to get you focused on your killer, you really are a shit journalist you know that? Because you’re late, you don’t know that the coppers are gonna be releasing the latest victims name soon, you think you oughta be there?” Niall is trying to sound professional but Harry just laughs at him, he knows that’s a load of shit the cops are just saying to try and find the media leak, and Harry isn’t near stupid enough to show up there.

“Thanks Niall but no thanks, I’d rather find out on my own, it makes my job a least a little more interesting then.” Harry absent mindedly sits at his desk at stares at his screen, he’s had this conversation with Niall so many times he doesn't have to focus, damn sports writers. Niall starts talking to him again but all Harry can focus on is bright blue eyes and an awkward but amazing hand shake, he could’ve sworn he felt actually electricity pass through him.

“Harry!” He jumps up; Niall is just staring at him.

“What?”

“Have you heard from Liam at all? I’m getting kinda worried, I usually can’t go an hour without hearing from him, and it’s been nearly two days.”

Harry had forgotten all about Liam on his way to work after running into Louis, he felt a little guilty that another bloke could make him forget so quickly, “sorry Ni, I haven’t heard anything, I guess he just didn't like me that much, I've tried calling but got nothing. Just goes straight to voice mail.” He frowns at Niall; he looks so lost without his friend around, almost broken… Just like that Niall snaps out of it and his big dorky smile is back.

“Oh well, he probably just found himself another pretty fellow and is just getting acquainted.” He winks and laughs at Harry. Did he just call him pretty? Harry can’t help but laugh too and soon he forgets. Niall returns to his work and Harry figures he should too, but he can’t seem to focus at all. All he can focus on is his phone, he knows Louis probably won’t contact him today but he really doesn't want to wait at all.

‘Calm down, you just met him it likely he won’t call at all.’ He tries to sort out his thoughts when his phone dings loudly. ‘It better not be Niall from across the bloody office.’ He picks up his phone and smiles,

Coffee tomorrow? Can’t wait to see you :) - Louis.

 

Harry sends a simple one word text and just floats through the rest of the day barely paying attention to anything. He has  date with an amazing guy, at least he hopes.


	3. Drugs, Alcohol, and Late Nights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the night before Harry and Louis' first date and it goes to hell real quick. Niall breaks and Zayn rages. What really happened to Liam? the only one who knows is out on the prowl again, despite his best efforts his patience is wavering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey folks, sorry about the late update again, i always get so busy and procrastinate so much. Big trigger warning for blood in this chapter, and mental disorder, if i missed anything let me know. And of course thanks for reading and let me know what you think of how the story is going!

3

 

Z

“Hasn’t anyone come to claim this guy yet?” Detective Malik shouts into the office, “I mean someone must miss him, where are his friends, his family, I don’t even know his bloody name yet!” The few officers left so late in the night just look at him for a few seconds then ignore him, they are all tired and just ready to go home, by now they have gotten used to his sudden outbursts, most just mumble under their breath that he needs to take a holiday or get laid.

Zayn starts to pace, he needs to figure this out, the poor bloke lying in the M.E’s office, just waiting to be put to rest, why didn’t he have ID on him, who doesn’t carry ID these days? Unless someone made sure to take it before they dumped him, but that doesn’t follow suit of what this killers done in the past, he wants everyone to know who his victims are, he thrives off of the attention, so why was this one different?

 

N

 

Niall tosses and turns in bed, grabbing at the sheets, grabbing at a person that was never there, trying to pull himself out of his nightmare. He hears screams and cries for help and wishes he could, but he can’t see anyone, nothing but the black walls that surround him, one word, four letters, one on each wall, D.E.A.D, then Liam is on the ground in front of him blood pouring from his head. “No…”

“LIAM!!” Niall jolts up in bed, searching and reaching for Liam, hoping that it was just a bad dream, that Liam would be there in his bed, but that is just a distant dream too, Liam has never come to his bed, he’s never had any sort of reason to, but still he can’t stop himself. He wants him there, right now, he wants him to be anywhere that he could possible contact him, Niall’s worried, he wants to hear from his friend, from the person he loves. But that’s how Liam works, if he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be, everyone knows it so they just let him be. This isn’t the longest he’s disappeared for, but it is the first time he hasn’t said anything to Niall before he left.

Niall gets out of bed and goes to the kitchen, at first he considers tea, then decides against it and reaches to the counter to grab a Guinness instead, his nerves need a little bit more then caffeine to settle down.  He’s Irish, it’s allowed, or so he tells himself. He picks his phone up off the counter and checks to see if Liam has messaged him, called, sent a bloody email, anything to let Niall know that he is alive, as per usual, nothing.

 Niall chugs the rest of his beer and throws the can across the room, it hits the floor lightly and rolls under the couch, “God damnit,” he curses as he crosses the room to pick the damn thing up. He fumbles to the ground and starts reaching under the couch, “where the hell is it?” His hand grabs something, it’s definitely not the can, but it’s not something that belongs under there either, he likes to keep his place clean so he can’t imagine what it could be. It feels like paper and plastic at the same time, Niall jerks his hand out from under the couch and hits a protruding beam. He feels the sharp metal draw across his skin and break it; warm blood quickly starts to flow out of his hand and onto whatever is in his hand.

He pulls his now bloodied hand out from under the couch, and with it, a photograph, that’s it, a simple picture of Liam and him, taken by Harry if he remembers correctly. The blood from his hand has split the picture down the middle, drawing a bloody divide between Liam and himself. It’s a gruesome image that tosses his stomach around. Niall sits there letting his hand bleed as he chokes out the first sob, and then the next, soon he’s in full hysterics, tears streaming down his face, hitting the picture and mixing with the blood causing it to go further down the picture to the ground, dyeing it red and leaving nothing to his drunk imagination.

No words come to him at all, the cascade of tears still rolling down his face, he lies down on the carpet, not caring about his bloody hand, and stays there, still crying but now clutching the photo to his chest, blood is getting everywhere, on his shirt, on the carpet, on his skin, but he simply doesn’t care, so long as nothing else gets on the photo.

“Liam…” He manages to spit out, “Where are you?”

 

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, but eventually the tears run out, and he sobers up enough to get up and place the bloody picture on the coffee table. Across the room he hears his phone start to vibrate against the counter, he bolts up and runs across the room to the kitchen, hoping its Liam calling him.

Niall picks up the phone and looks at the caller ID, Harry, it says. He sighs and clears his throat before he picks it up, he doesn’t need Harry knowing what just happened. Before he answers he looks at the time, 1:30, not that late. “Hello?” he answers.

“Niall! Thank god you’re awake! I can’t sleep; I’m too excited for tomorrow! Do you think he will like me?” Harry’s tone is cheery but worried with just a hint of exhaustion, nothing out of the usual really, it was exactly the same when Harry had called him the night before his date with Liam.

The recollection hurts Niall, but he manages to give Harry the answer he knows he wants, without revealing a thing, “of course he’s going to like you Harry, you’re gorgeous and funny, what’s not to like?”

“Thanks Niall, I guess I should let you get to bed, thanks for listening to me…again, night.” Niall can practically hear Harry’s smile at the other end of the line.

“You’re welcome Harry, G’night”  Niall hangs up and stumbles over to the coffee table, he picks the picture up and holds it, laying down on the couch with the only piece of Liam he has in his arms, he falls asleep.

 

L

 

Louis paces and picks at the patch of raw skin forming on his hand. Part of him, the part he really doesn’t like but its part he can’t control, it’s the part that wants to throw someone against a wall and not have them live much past that. It, He, wants out, He wants to be put to use, and He is craving again. ‘It’s only been a couple days’ Louis tries to tell himself to no avail. They had made a deal, they had decided that because this was number seventeen they would get to live a little longer, just to savour the moment just a little while longer. However, He says it’s just a number and it’ll never be any better or any worse than the others, He tries to tell Louis it’s just something that calms him, something that makes his life just a little easier.

Louis isn’t sure he believes Him. He isn’t even sure he wants to kill Harry, actually he really doesn’t want to, he doesn’t really have much of any desire to kill anyone but He insists. He says otherwise He will make Louis’ life a living hell, as if Louis didn’t already feel that. His life has been hell for nearly a year and a half now; something happened that night but he really can’t stand to think about it. Unfortunately He has taken quite a liking to Harry as well, but He sees it in a completely different way. He sees Harry as a beautiful corpse, a beautiful simple chase after a love struck puppy that would never see it coming. Louis is going to try and have to convince Him to not do it, or at least not as violently tragic as he wants to.

The skin on Louis’ hand is burning like hell now. He looks down to see it raw, red, and bleeding, claw marks left by his fidgety hands in a small attempt to keep himself sane. He thought the pain might help but it really doesn’t, if anything it fuels Him. Louis needs to get out, being inside looking at the words on the wall are driving him insane. He picks up his jacket and locks the door behind him.

It’s a chilled London night, the air crisp and the street lights on bright. This is exactly where Louis should stay, in bright lights where he can always be seen, it dulls the need at least a small amount, the desire to kill tends to be outweighed by the fear of being caught and left to rot in a prison. Especially with so many people left in the world.

 

Walking around by yourself is a weird thing at 2 am, the world looks so empty, so very few people are out, the ones left out tend to be homeless or hopeless wanderers looking for some sort of purpose in the world. If they don’t fall under those categories they’re the rare ones who, like Louis, are outside to get away from something or someone, not really knowing where they ought to go or where their feet are taking them, and they don’t really care. Feeling lost does that to you, it makes you hazy, and it makes you thoughtless and thoughtful at the same time. You are constantly thinking but it’s really just your thoughts going round and round in a circle, torturing you, but at least it’s better than being stuck inside and doing the exact same thing.

 Without paying attention Louis bumps into a woman who is clearly high out of her mind. Her flat straight hair and brown eyes looking ragged, she’s wearing only one shoe and half her dress is falling off her left shoulder. He grabs her arm to steady her and accidentally gets blood on her.

“EWWW,” she shrieks, “What happened to your hand? It looks really gross.” Her voice nothing short of pure disgust clouded by drugs.

“I, uh, cut it.” Louis stumbles on his words, he’s not good at handling people when they are like this, even when he was a cop he hated when he had to deal with people who were intoxicated.

“That doesn’t look like a cut. What did you actually do?” Her voice is shrill and accusing, he wonders why she cares anyway, but he stays quiet and attempts to walk away. “HEY! I asked you a question, what happened? Are you stupid.”  A hiss like noise escapes Louis’ mouth and then the world goes black.

 

His head is pounding, his hand is throbbing, and he still can’t see properly. He tries to use his hearing to figure out something about his location. He can’t hear any wind, and the air tastes stale, he’s definitely not outside but that’s about all he’s got. A small whimper in the corner perks up his ears. Its female and its extremely faint but he crawls toward it anyway.

Her scream pierces Louis’ ears and he’s forced to stop. He needs his vision back, he rubs his eyes and stands up slowly. There in the far corner a small figure starts to form, he can see the flat hair and dark eyes clouded by tears instead of drugs this time around, she is badly beaten and bleeding, fear spread across her face. He knows talking to her will only make it worse. There is only one way to do this and keep Him happy enough. Louis takes a deep breath and walks forward. Her screams echo into the empty building but no one comes to her rescue.

 

Louis wraps his hand in a bandage, that freaking psycho got him good in a few places too. This is going to be hard to explain tomorrow, maybe Harry will be too taken with him to even notice, at least he can hope. That woman just had to come up to him today of all days she couldn’t have waited just a little while longer, it would’ve been so much easier, but no she had to come around now. He doesn’t like what he had to do, but no matter, it was already done. Hoping deeply that his plan works and nothing backfires on him he gets into bed. Drugs are a hell of a thing to get a hold of at this time…


End file.
